Free Heller's Revenge by J.D. Nixon Page A

IT geek.” I pushed up my sleeve and
flexed my bicep. The others smiled politely. I pushed my sleeve
back down again, crossed my arms and sulked. I’d picked the wrong
crowd to impress with my miniscule muscles. Daniel winked at me
sympathetically. He’s not exactly built like the proverbial brick
shithouse either. Niq, he and I were all rare creatures in this
temple of testosterone.
    “When do we meet with him?”
Heller asked Daniel, ignoring my theatrics. He’d seen it all
before.
    “Later in the week when he
arrives from the US.”
    “Okay.” He glanced around at the
four of us, a hint of smugness on his face. “I have one further
item to report.”
    Daniel, Sid and Clive all raised
their eyebrows, obviously none of them in the loop on this piece of
news. I was always the last to know anything, so I wasn’t surprised
at being surprised.
    “Just this morning, I signed a
contract with Taldac Limited to provide security to their office
complex for a five-year period.”
    There was a general murmur of
awe around the room, which I joined even though I had absolutely no
idea who or what Taldac Limited was.
    “Doesn’t Taldac have a
long-standing relationship with Select Security?” queried Clive in
his flat, gravelly voice.
    Heller smiled, and it wasn’t a
smile you’d want your mother to see, particularly my mother who had
a big crush on him. “I undercut them, but even then we’ll still be
pulling in a healthy profit. Select were taking them for granted
and overcharging them for years. Let’s just say that the CEO of
Taldac wasn’t thrilled with that discovery after I pointed it
out.”
    Sid whistled under his breath.
“Select aren’t going to be happy with Taldac’s decision to switch.
That’s a lucrative contract.”
    “Yes, it is.” Heller smiled that
nasty smile again and a shiver ran up my spine. He relished any
opportunity to best Select Security. “There will be a generous
end-of-year bonus for every man this year.”
    I cleared my throat noisily.
    Heller’s blue headlights landed
on me. “ And every woman. Anything else?” There wasn’t, so we
were all dismissed.
    I flounced off to my desk, still
miffed about the lack of appreciation for my growing muscles, and
checked my email. I had twenty-five emails since I checked last
thing the previous evening before leaving for Will’s house. I am
not kidding when I say that my family’s emails should be regulated
by the government. They are public nuisances, forwarding on every
crappy email ever written – every request for banking details from
Nigeria, every urban legend, every tired old blonde joke.
    To my joy, there was one gem of
an email. It was from my best friend, Dixie, a petite and perky
Malaysian-Australian, with enchanting black eyes, a cute black
pixie hair cut and the biggest libido I’d ever known in a human
being. There was an attachment to her email and I opened it
cautiously, well aware of her penchant for forwarding naked photos
of men she had conquered and snapped with her phone while they were
slumbering in post-coital bliss. I angled my monitor to ensure that
Niq, who did his distance education schooling in the same general
office area as Daniel and me, wasn’t able to view the photo. It had
a high probability of falling into the porn category.
    The photo was taken in a hotel
room. I realised with a jolt that I recognised the man asleep on
the bed. He was a high-profile rugby league player with a
notoriously sordid reputation for involuntary sexual encounters
with women in nightclub toilets. Scrutinising the photo, I noticed
he was much less endowed than I’d imagined, given his reputation.
Perhaps that’s why he had to force himself on drunken women so
regularly?
    I sent Dixie a quick email back: That’s a teeny peeny! How did you meet him? How did you manage
to do him in a hotel room and not in a nightclub loo? And is it
true that size doesn’t matter!!?
    After hitting the send button, I
deleted the photo from my